Page 114 of Labyrinthine
His voice cuts through the air like a blade of its own.
“He’ll consume you. Even if he doesn’t want to. He’s been overcome with darkness, and it gives him no choice. That’s the secret he’s kept from you, that he’s tried to hide all these years.”
I step back. Just one. The stones feel unsteady beneath my boots.
Mallen doesn’t speak. His body shifts again, poised like a coiled predator, waiting. Not for Darian. For me.
“No,” I whisper.
Mallen blinks. The smallest motion. And in that moment, Darian lunges.
I move too.
Three bodies collide. The labyrinth swallows us.
Someone grabs my arm—I’m yanked the opposite way. Darian. Mallen. Both trying to fight each other. Both trying to protect me. And I’m trying to stop both from dying.
One blade whistles past my ear. Another clashes against it.
Too close. Too fast.
Mallen roars—low, guttural—and drives forward. His sword slices through the air, forcing Darian back. I’m shoved aside.
Darian hits the ground. Hard.
Mallen’s blade rises.
I throw myself between them.
My sword lifts just in time, catching his. Sparks flash. The impact shudders through my bones.
Mallen stares down at me.
Disbelief. Then something darker.
His sword doesn’t move.
He sees what I’ve done. What I’ve chosen.
I’ve saved Darian.
From him.
Mallen’s jaw tightens. His eyes—once stormy green—go dark. Whatever held him together falls apart.
I don’t speak. But everything in me pleads.
Not for mercy.
For him to understand.
That I didn’t want this.
Darian’s hand finds my shoulder—and his blade finds its mark.
It slips through the narrow space between us and slices clean across Mallen’s arm.
He snarls in pain. I drive my elbow back into Darian’s ribs. He gasps but doesn’t stop.
